


He is not a Child

by titantea



Series: The Villains [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen, Historical, Historical Hetalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 21:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6393679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titantea/pseuds/titantea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is the height of the French Revolution, and Alfred decides to pay a visit to his old friend and brother, Francis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He is not a Child

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on Fanfiction.net.

 

October 1793

Alfred was glad that Arthur had moved on from the American Revolution.  He knew that there were very few people who could hold a grudge that long, especially since a nation’s ideals and emotions are decided by its citizens.  Luckily, humans, with their short lifespan (he tried not to think about the lifespan part too much), did not hold grudges for long, and Alfred soon had a good relationship with Arthur once again.

Francis, on the other hand, was a completely different story.

Arriving at Paris, Alfred really had no idea what to expect.  He remembered all that Francis had done for him during his revolution.  So when he heard of the French Revolution, he was ecstatic.  They must have picked up the same ideals as he did.  But then he had heard the news of what was actually going on in France.  With King Louis XVI dead and the French Revolution in full swing, he didn’t know how the Francis now was going to be like compared to the Francis he knew while he was still a colony.  The change that swept the nation had completely caught him off guard, and even more shocking was how quickly everything changed.  

The Francis he knew wouldn’t send his own king to the guillotine, despite his incompetence as a leader.

Alfred had left the ship and the crew at the dock with orders to not leave the ship unless to restock or required to by any French officials. He felt that the men, who were all American, should be safe, but he could always be sure.

On the carriage towards Gouverneur Morris’s house, the first thing he noticed about Paris was the people. The people here were all destitute. Back home in America, the people were generally of a middle class.  Here, the people looked poor, like the beggars on the streets of Boston, and made up the majority of the people he saw. The second thing he noticed were the frightened and slightly suspicious looks in all of the people’s eyes, as though they knew they were being watched.

Alfred knew why they were scared.  In a letter that was sent to him by Gouverneur Morris, the current French government had eyes everywhere. The slightest offence against the government, whether it be being more moderate than others or referring to another with _monsieur_ , could lead to a person being dragged out of their homes and onto the guillotine.  Alfred shuddered at the thought.

Alfred soon noticed that there was a great amount of sound coming from one of the squares in the city. A great mob of people were cheering and jeering at something. Every once in awhile, the noise would escalate, before dying back down again. And Alfred, being ever the curious one, wanted/needed to see what was going on.  

“Si--Citizen, can you please stop the carriage?”

The driver replied, “Will you be getting off here?”

Alfred called back, “No.  I’ll be right back.  Please wait for me here.”

“Of course.”

Alfred climbed out of the carriage and proceeded towards the square.  

\-----

Being only a few blocks away from the mob, Alfred was quick to make it to the square.  But as he approached the mob, he started to few uneasy.  A gut feeling was telling him to _go, get away, you don’t want to be here_.  Alfred, however, ignored it and asked one of the passing citizens in faulty french, “ ‘Scuse me.  Can you tell me what’s going on right now?”

The woman turned and stared at him, before replying with caution, “There are executions going on.  There are executions daily.”

Alfred reeled back in shock.  “Executions!?   _Daily!?_ ”

“Yes.  There are executions daily.  You sound like a foreigner, but you should know this.”

With that, the woman proceeded on her way.  Another roar came from the crowd.  Alfred, shaking slightly, turned towards the crowd and cautiously inched towards the crowd.  He could see the guillotine now, in all its bloody glory.  He had never seen a guillotine before.  There were people shouting, jeering.

He could hear, ever so slightly over the crowd, footsteps climbing up wooden stairs.  The noise was getting louder.  Alfred stood on his toes, trying to get a glimpse over the mob of people.  But as soon as the man got onto the platform, Alfred suddenly felt an alarming yet familiar tug in his mind and he fell back.

The man was an American.

“NO!”

Alfred angrily shoved through the crowd.

“STOP!”

There were many annoyed glances at his way.  The man was being tied to a board.

“STOP!  STOP!  HE’S MY CITIZEN!”

The man was laid onto the guillotine.

“NO!  HE’S AMERICAN!  YOU CAN’T DO THIS, DAMN IT!”

His pleas and yells were drowned out in the crowd that was getting louder by the second.

“NOOOOO!!!”

The blade dropped.  Blood spurted.  The mob roared.  Alfred screamed.

Alfred was left breathless as he felt the connection severe.  Desperate to get away, he pushed his way out of crowd and started retching all over the pavement.  This was sick.  All of it.  This was not the France he remembered.

Already another person was being led to the guillotine.  This time it was a young woman, no older than 20.

Gasping for breath, Alfred staggered down the street, no longer willing to take place in this executi--no, murder.  The sight of the man--his citizen--being guillotined replayed in his head over and over again.  It was a horrible sight, and every time he closed his eyes, the scene only got clearer.  His heart wrenched at the thought of the blade coming down.  And the people saw this daily with support like a pack of savages.  He was only vaguely aware of the moisture on his cheeks.

“Are you alright?  Do you need a doctor?”

Alfred looked up, startled.  He had reached his carriage already.  The driver was looking at him concern, which was understandable.  Alfred probably looked sickly, considering that was how he felt.

“I-I’ll be fine.  Let’s just go.  Please.”

As the carriage pulled away, the crowd roared yet again.

\----

“Alfred!”

Alfred strided down the streets of Paris in a silent rage.  He emitted an aura of coldness that drove most of the people on streets out of his way.

“Alfred!  Please, calm down!”

Alfred whirled around and jabbed a finger into the chest of a startled Gouverneur Morris.  “Mr. Morris--”

“Don’t call me that!  It’s dangerous to say that!”

“--I can’t allow this to go any further.  Francis is taking this way too far!  He’s executed some of Arthur’s citizens!  He’s even executing some of mine!”

“Exactly!  Anyone arrested during this time will most likely be executed.  If you provoke the National Assembly further, they may be prompted to execute all of its American prisoners tomorrow!  You have to know that Robespierre has gone paranoid!” pleaded Morris.

Alfred retorted, “That’s why I’m going to see Francis.  There is a difference between the National Congress and Francis.  I’m trying to appeal Francis right now.  So unless you are coming with me to beat some sense into him, go away!”  Alfred huffed angrily.

Morris was silent for a moment before he sighed in resignation, “I cannot stop you.  But Alf--, America.  Please, be careful.”

Alfred smiled and replied, “I will.  Thank you, Gouverneur.”

\----

“FRANCE!”

All the men in the building jumped at the bang of the door and the sharp and boisterous voice that followed and resonated throughout the building.  A young man marched into the room towards the personification of the French Republic.  At the look on Francis’s face, Maximilien Robespierre muttered, “Do you know this young man?  He does not sound French.”

France glanced over at his leader and sighed, “I will handle this.”

\----

Francis smiled and strolled over to greet Alfred.  “ _Amerique_ , what a surprise!  I wasn’t expecting you for a few days.  If I had known, I would have had you come over to my home.  It’s been a few years.  How have you--?”

Alfred grabbed Francis’s jacket.  The assembly collectively gasped and started muttering among themselves.  Cutting Francis off, Alfred pulled him close and growled, “Cut the crap, Francis.  I want a private audience.  I’ll be in your office."

Alfred released the stunned Francis and strided out of the main hall coldly.

\----

As soon as the young man left, the assembly broke out in commotion.  Many of the men wondered who the young English--at least he sounded English--man was.  But all of them knew that they would probably never know.  The boy had just, by the looks of it, threatened their nation and would most likely be imprisoned the next day.  And the day after, executed.  However, Francis had other plans.

“Please give me a moment Maximilien.  I will tend to the matter at hand,” Francis said quietly.

Robespierre nonchalantly replied, “It is fine, citizen Bonaparte.  I will have him arrested.”

Francis shook his head.  “No.  This is not someone you can simply send to the guillotine.  Doing so would be a declaration of war.  That young man was America, so you cannot simply just kill him.  He is like me, but still a child.”

Robespierre contemplated this information before replying, “Alright.  But you how our relationship with the new nation is right now.  If you feel to need to be rid of him, do not hesitate to say so.”

\----

A light rapping on the door alerted Alfred of Francis.  Said Frenchman opened the door and came into the office before closing it again.  “Good morning, Alfred.  It has been a few years, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” Alfred replied in his rough french.  “But I didn’t come here for a family reunion.”  Francis noted that Alfred was speaking in a fairly formal and cold manner for such a cheerful nation.  “I’m here regarding the arrest and execution of my citizens.  Actually, I should include all of the people who have been arrested and have or are scheduled to be executed, based on what I have heard."

Francis regarded the young nation.  Then he pulled out a chair and sat down across from Alfred.  He was silent for a moment before asking, “Would you like a drink?”

In retrospect, Francis should’ve expected it.  After all, he did take care of the child several times when Arthur wasn’t around.  Alfred brought down a fist on the table and utterly destroyed the poor desk.  Paper flew everywhere, inkwells shattered and spilled ink all over the carpet, and there were splinters everywhere.

“Don’t change the damn subject, Francis!  I want my citizens back!  You may be in the middle of a revolution, but leave my people out of it!”

Francis remained undeterred.  “Your people underwent a revolution less than a decade ago.  My people supported yours.  I sent you much needed supplies, money and soldiers.  Without my help, you would not have won your war.  And this is how you repay me!?  You act like a spoiled child.  I helped you fight your revolution, yet you refuse to support mine.  In fact, you even have the audacity to denounce it.    Why do you no longer support me like I did you?  Did we not have an agreement to aid each other?”

Alfred shouted back, “Well, not like this!  I am no longer a child, Francis. I understand the world around me.  My people were fighting against the monarchy.  We were fighting for our independence.  You may have helped me in my revolution, but you never fought for my independence.  Hell, you never fought against the monarchy!  You were fighting just to spite England!  The guy you look up to so much, he’s insane!  He’s a murderer!  What you have right now is a massacre, a genocide, not a revolution!  You killed your own damn king and queen when you could have easily exiled them.  You forced the Marquis de Lafayette to flee from France, and I thought you regarded him as a hero!  Can you no longer feel your own people!?”  

Francis scoffed, “Necessary sacrifices, Alfred.  Necessary sacrifices.  They can no longer be regarded as citizens of France if they try to end the revolution.  France can only be a republic with the death of the King Louis and Marie Antoinette and all of his rascals, which includes the Marquis de Lafayette.  He may have been a hero, but he turned his back on France when France needed it most.  He needed to go.  Another thing, you may have gained your independence, but you do embody the true idea of revolution.  You have done nothing for your slaves, who, despite your Declaration and Constitution, are not free.  Your take on the Enlightenment ideals is weak.” Francis snapped, “Never forget that I helped you with your revolution, _America_.  I have every right to have my own.  So unless you are here to help me in bringing liberty to my people, I have NOTHING MORE TO DO WITH YOU!”

Francis was panting by the end of his rant.  Alfred stood frozen, with an unreadable expression.  Alfred swallowed and murmured, “What happened to you, Francis?  You aren’t the same man I knew growing up.”

Alfred walked to the door.  Just before left, though, he stopped at the door frame and said, in an icy tone, “I’m not a child anymore.  Good day, _Monsieur_ Bonnefoy.”

With that, he strode out into the corridor, silently mourning the man he once called ‘brother.’

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yay for history!!!
> 
> This is my first story, so any comments, critiques, and advice is welcome.
> 
> Also, many thanks to bubblesodatea (on Fanfiction.net) , a good friend who offered to beta for me. Make sure to go check out her work! 
> 
> Historic notes:
> 
> Yes, England did manage to have a good relationship with America after the war.
> 
> The French Revolution started soon after the end of the Revolutionary War.
> 
> King Louis XVI, the king of France prior to the French Revolution, was sent to the guillotine on January 21, 1793, which commenced the Reign of Terror, which is when this one-shot takes place.
> 
> Gouverneur Morris was the American embassador in France during this time.
> 
> America mostly held middle class citizens, compared to France which had mostly peasants.
> 
> Executions in Paris during the Reign of Terror were held daily. Thousands of people, including some foreigners (mostly English), were sent to the guillotine, even for the slightest offence.
> 
> France banned the term Monsieur , because it meant that someone was above you. The French Revolution started as a movement to end the unequal treatment of the peasants compared to the aristocrats and the royals.
> 
> The National Assembly was one of the governing bodies during the French Revolution.
> 
> Maximilien Robespierre was the leader of France during the Reign of Terror. He was an intelligent man, but grew paranoid of the idea of people trying to stop the French Revolution. He was one of the people who sent thousands of people to their deaths.
> 
> The Marquis de Lafayette was a general in the American Revolution and was extremely popular among both the French and Americans. A firm believer in democracy from his time in America, he was one of the few nobles who agreed that the peasants should be treated equally. However, because he tried to aid the king, he was forced to flee to Belgium in 1792, where he was captured and turned over to Austria. There he was held in prison for five years.
> 
> France and America had a rather rough relationship during the late 18th century and early 19th century.


End file.
